


Ocean

by firecrackerx



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 05:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3196430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firecrackerx/pseuds/firecrackerx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of memories, salt and different needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ocean

It was one of those memories that never quite fades, a memory that remains brightly colored and vivid through the years while the hours and days around it decay and disappear into grey nothingness. Perry was sitting on the beach, sinking her toes in warm sand; LaFontaine was digging near the shore with a look of solemn concentration, collecting a little mountain of shells. They were fourteen and had never seen anything bigger than the ocean in front of them or more blue.

LaFontaine gathered the shells and took them to the arrangement of towels and umbrellas their father had built when they had arrived. The new shells were placed with the rest on their towel, carefully separated by types. Drops of sea water dripped from their wet red hair over their hands while they worked and Perry observed silently.

"Don't you want to go and play with Susan, Lola?" said Mrs. LaFontaine without looking up from the novel she was reading. Perry hesitated.

"I am headed to the rocks now, there's a cool cove behind them," said LaFontaine pushing their hair back with determination. Then they leaned over Perry and whispered. "Come on, we won't get in the water."

Perry nodded, stealing a quick glance towards LaFontaine's parents to make sure they had not heard. She didn't want them to find out about her being afraid of the sea. After they offered to take her with them in their vacations it seemed selfish to Perry to impose her childish fears on them, determined to show her gratitude. LaFontaine knew and was kind about it, not having mocked her even once. LaFontaine always knew, even things she had never told them.

Perry did not understand what scared her about the ocean. It was beautiful and terrible, immense. It smelled like cloudy days and salt. She would only go as far as getting her feet wet, then sat on the sand and looked at it, feeling small and fragile in her blue swimsuit and growing body. The sea looked alive; it was mesmerizing.

"Let's go," said LaFontaine gesturing with their head.

"Don't climb the rocks, sweetie," warned Mrs. LaFontaine distractedly.

LaFontaine made a noncommittal noise before leaving the shadow of the umbrella, all purpose and awkward limbs. They walked together until they reached the wall of rocks, then past them, LaFontaine offering their hand to Perry when they moved around the one closest to the shore and the waves licked their feet up to their ankles.

"I was here yesterday," they said, satisfied. "No one comes here, so it's perfect to dig."

Perry looked around her and could see why. The cove was sheltered on both sides by rocks and shaped as a crescent moon, with a thin fringe of sand. Enough for the two of them to move around, but not for a group to settle down with towels, umbrellas and the usual equipment Perry had learned was essential to spend a day at the beach. The shore was too close, but she felt safe between the thick walls of rock, like they had stepped in a world of their own.

"Are you okay? It's alright with the water over there, yeah?" asked LaFontaine, like reading her thoughts.

"Yes, it's okay."

"You don't have to be scared. The tides move regularly, you now. You can predict when it's high or low, and things like that," they said, crouching and trying to remove a shelled creature from the rocks gently. "There are no dangerous species this close to the shore around here. So everything will be okay, Perr, I promise."

Perry stood behind them, watching their pale fingers working around the shell patiently. LaFontaine was taller than her back then, but they still had the air of a child, skinny and unevenly proportioned with sudden growth. Unlike them, Perry had grown slowly but her hips started getting curves early enough for kids to make fun of her at school. LaFontaine grew taller and wilder by the month, like they were in a hurry to shed their childhood years and explore the uncharted lands beyond. Not like a girl at all, had thought Perry, watching them lean over the rock, hair over their face once more, wet and dark with salt water.

"Yeah, I got it," they gave her a lopsided smile, holding the shell up. Their eyes were soft and clever, and when they looked down again the back of their neck looked delicate and tender from where Perry stood. Not like a boy, either.

She got on her knees by their side. It was confusing, thinking about LaFontaine's body like that, but lately she had caught herself looking at them, like right now. Looking at their patient hands, at the shape of their nose and the way their tongue stuck out in concentration.

"Do you like it?" asked LaFontaine, turning to her with the shell cradled in their palm.

Perry would never be able to explain what happened next, or why it happened. She had never thought about doing it before and it would be years until she did it again. But because they were alone and the rocks were shielding them, and the shore whispered, and a strand of LaFontaine's hair fell on their forehead and stuck to it wetly, Perry leaned and pressed a childish kiss against their lips.

When Perry moved back she saw LaFontaine's hand trembling softly, still holding the shell in its palm. Her thoughts swam in a confused state of pure satisfaction, tipsy on her own power. She moved closer over the sand and placed a tentative tongue on the side of LaFontaine's neck. Perry heard a feeble intake of breath, saw their fingers close weakly over the shell. Every detail remained. The pattern on the hard surface of the shell; the prickling sensation of the sun on her naked shoulders; the cold skin of LaFontaine’s neck under her tongue; the blue, blue sea moving behind them.

"Susan!" the voice of LaFontaine's mother approached from the other side of the rock wall, annoyed and out of breath. "I told you not to climb the rocks!"

LaFontaine got on their feet quickly, face flushed all the way down to their neck:

"We didn’t! We are not doing anything!" they managed, looking at Perry. She looked right back at them, still on her knees.

"We should go," she whispered. LaFontaine nodded.

They walked back to their towels and Perry watched LaFontaine placing the new shell with the others, breathing quickly and pressing their thighs together for a moment before leaving for the shore again, clearly agitated.

But as she watched them, a sense of uneasiness grew inside her. There was something wrong with it all. She was not feeling it. No butterflies, no goosebumps, no light-headed bliss. The promised rush of blood had clearly hit LaFontaine, but not her. She embraced her knees against her chest and observed as they resumed the shell hunt. She was restless. She wanted to touch their lanky shoulders and arms and hear their breath hitching again. She wanted their trembling hands. She wanted to be the only one to ever see them blush like they had in the cove. She wanted it all, but her body was unmoved.

Every detail remained, clear and alive in her mind. The regular sound of Mrs.LaFontaine passing the pages of her novel. The dull fear in her stomach at the thought of her cold body and her feverish mind. The lingering taste of salt in her lips.

 

 

The first flat they share after university is small and always too warm, and stays half-furnished for over three months. LaFontaine's moans almost echo in their room as their leg twitches, kicking the blue blanket away. Perry's long red curls spread over their hips and thighs and her hand holds theirs tightly when LaFontaine's hips jerk up against her mouth, feet sinking in the mattress. Their fingers stay interwoven until LaFontaine's arched back relaxes slowly and only their ragged breath can be heard in the room.

Perry moves back, sitting on her legs to look at LaFontaine. They are still catching their breath, a hand covering their eyes, palm up towards the ceiling. She slides a hand over the side of their hips, marveling at the reactions she can cause in their body and the uncomplicated, beautiful ways to summon them. Her own body is under a different kind of euphoria. Lola may have learned that her body is rarely moved by sexual impulses, but she knows the undeniable pull of LaFontaine's proximity that feels like heat under her skin. Touching them, sharing their warmth, their space, watching them as pleasure breaks inside their body, cradling their moment of vulnerability. It's a different need, but just as urgent.

"Hey," LaFontaine stretches an arm lazily, hooking a finger on Perry's underwear, "need anything...?"

"No" she says, retrieving the blanket and lying by their side, even as her body aches with the need of closeness. She doesn't say it, because Perry never says what she needs if she can help it. But LaFontaine can read it in the way she moves, so they just move to press against her back and hold her tight, and Perry is light-headed with bliss like sex has never made her.

"Are you comfortable?" they yawn.

Perry nods and moves her hips, fitting snugly against their body. The room is silent and warm and she can feel LaFontaine's heartbeat, still beating wildly. Their naked skin against her own is almost nourishing, all her anxieties melting into pure stillness. She licks her bottom lip and the slight taste of salt in her tongue brings waves to her mind.

"Let's go to the sea for our first vacation together."

LaFontaine doesn't answer. They just pull her close, tightly, and Perry feels a tongue against the side of her neck. She smiles and realizes the memory of their clumsy first kiss is stored in vivid and colorful detail in LaFontaine's heart, too. She finds their hand and squeezes it softly:

"If you find us a cove, I will give you a proper kiss," she says, instead of saying 'I love you'.

"Me too," they murmur, half-asleep with their mouth against her shoulder, and Perry knows with stirring certainty that LaFontaine heard every single word she left unsaid.


End file.
